It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

For the veteran squad leader, death was not scary, and pain was not scary.

What I fear most is not being able to fight, being left behind in the rear.

The old squad leader struggled to lift his eyelids and looked at the fierce little girl in front of him.

He glanced at the madman next to him, who had a "I support her" look on his face, and at Eagle Eye, who, although his back was to him, was listening intently.

These three brats...

This is a conspiracy to rebel.

but……

The old squad leader looked at his arm, which was tightly bandaged in front of his chest, and felt the blood pulsating with warmth again, despite the intense pain.

A strange mix of bittersweetness and warmth welled up in my heart.

The company commander knew his hand was useless, so he gave him a way out by saying "there are no supplies," hoping he would back down.

And these three guys.

But by using this almost "coup" method, they managed to pull the useless hand back, even at the cost of taking away his "power".

These steps...

It was a tough gift, but it was also heartwarming.

Besides, the company commander's hands aren't good, so he probably won't come to "check" on him... Oh well, whatever.

This time, the old squad leader looked at the three of them and finally gave up his stubbornness.

"OK……"

The old squad leader's voice was weak, revealing a sense of helpless indulgence.

"I'll listen to you... I'll listen to whatever you say..."

"This hand of mine is sealed."

"If I don't reach Luding Bridge, I'm a one-armed swordsman, okay?"

Upon hearing this, her taut shoulders finally relaxed.

Kuang Ge let out a long sigh of relief, plopped down on the ground, and wiped the cold sweat from his face.

Even Hawkeye, who had been facing away from everyone, finally turned around.

He slung his gun over his shoulder, walked up to the old sergeant, took out half a roasted sweet potato that had been squeezed until it was warm from his pocket, and stuffed it into the old sergeant's left hand.

"Squad leader, have something to eat, it'll give you some energy."

under the moonlight.

The old sergeant held a sweet potato in his left hand and his right hand draped over his chest, looking at the three soldiers surrounding him.

He suddenly felt that the cold moon wasn't so cold after all.

"You little rascals..."

The old squad leader lowered his head and took a bite of the sweet potato; it was sweet.

"Go to sleep! We have to run around tomorrow!"

"Don't think you can slack off just because you've sealed my hands!"

"If anyone falls behind tomorrow, I'll kick them to death, no matter what!"

"yes!!!"

The three of them lowered their voices and shouted in unison, their faces beaming with bright smiles.

……

At 4:30 a.m., the sky was still pitch black.

In the mountain valley of Shiyueping, it was so quiet that even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

In the sheltered spot of the camp, several cooking pots had been quietly set up.

There was no commotion, no clashes.

The veteran cooks were like ghosts walking in the night.

Their movements were frighteningly light; they added firewood, poured water, and stirred with utmost care.

They were afraid of disturbing the soldiers who had just run ninety miles of muddy road yesterday and were now fast asleep.

The dry firewood was licked by the flames in the stove, making a very slight crackling sound.

At the edge of the pot lid, white steam pushed open a sliver of moisture, rushing out and quickly being dispersed by the cold wind.

It tasted like corn porridge, mixed with some bitter wild vegetables that I had dug up from who-knows-where.

Although rough, on such a cold and hungry morning, the steaming aroma of roasted food is the most alluring and seductive potion in the world.

"call……"

Beside a dry rock not far from the fire, three figures opened their eyes almost simultaneously.

Crazy Brother flipped himself up and sat up, his movements as light as a big cat.

Hawkeye was already adjusting his leg wraps.

He groped in the dark, his fingers deftly wrapping the cloth strip tightly around himself, finally tightening it into a knot.

Ruan Ruan immediately reached for her first-aid kit.

By the faint light of the distant fire, she counted the few remaining rolls of bandages and the nearly empty small bottle of saline solution.

After confirming that everything was correct, he put the bag on his back and tightened the straps.

The three exchanged a glance, nodded in tacit agreement, and tiptoed away from their sleeping comrades lying haphazardly on the ground, heading towards the steaming cooking pot.

Beside the stove, the head cook was struggling to stir the thick paste with a large ladle.

Seeing the three of them approaching, he raised an eyebrow in surprise and muttered a curse in a low voice.

"With a dog's nose? You wake up just by smelling something?"

Kuang Ge grinned, and without saying a word, reached out to grab the rough porcelain bowls stacked to the side.

"Squad leader, give us more thick soup, the road is long today."

The cook glared at Kuang Ge, but the spoon in his hand sank down, filling all three bowls to the brim, and he even scooped out a few extra pieces of wild vegetable roots.

"Finish your food and get out of here, don't wake up the others."

Kuang Ge took the bowl, but didn't rush to eat.

He, Hawkeye, and Softie, carrying the scalding hot bowls, turned around and went back behind the large rock where the elite squad was resting.

In the shadows beneath the rock, a huddled figure stirred.

The old squad leader woke up.

That was the alertness he had developed over many years of rolling around in piles of dead bodies. Even when his body was exhausted to the extreme, the slightest sound or movement could instantly wake him up.

He instinctively wanted to get up.

Following a decades-long habit, his right hand instinctively braced against the ground beneath him, trying to use the momentum to spring his body up.

"Hmm!"

A muffled groan was abruptly choked in his throat.

The moment he exerted force with his right hand, a piercing pain shot through his arm, which was fixed to his chest, and at the same time, the bandage tightly constricted his movements.

Losing his balance, the old squad leader swayed and fell awkwardly to one side.

He frantically grabbed at the air with his left hand, finally managing to steady himself by bracing himself on the wet, cold mud.

The old squad leader was panting heavily, looking down in a daze.

By the lingering moonlight, he saw his right arm, which was bound to his chest like a rice dumpling.

For a fleeting moment, a look of bewilderment flashed in his eyes, followed by a deep sense of unease.

Finally, it turned into an overwhelming sense of irritability and anger.

obsolete.

Even though Ruan Ruan helped him clear the blood stasis yesterday, even though he saved this arm.

But now, he has truly become a "one-armed man" who even has difficulty getting out of bed.

This feeling of powerlessness was more painful than being shot, for the old sergeant who had always been competitive and at the forefront throughout his life.

He gritted his teeth, his cheeks bulging with hard flesh, and dug his left hand fiercely into the soil, trying to prop himself up with one hand.

Just then, a large hand reached out and steadily supported his left armpit.

The old squad leader stiffened and suddenly looked up.

Kuang Ge was squatting in front of him, holding a steaming rough porcelain bowl in his hand. His face was expressionless, but he slightly exerted force in his arm to help the old squad leader.

"Awake? Perfect timing, while it's still hot."

The old squad leader used the leverage to sit up straight, and somewhat awkwardly shook off Kuang Ge's hand.

He glanced around to make sure his sleeping comrades hadn't seen his "bear-like" appearance before he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Meddlesome," the old squad leader muttered under his breath.